


This Fire Is Out Of Our Control

by redfiona



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Awesome Ladies Ficathon, F/M, Prompt Fic, ladyfest10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-03
Updated: 2010-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfiona/pseuds/redfiona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She burns all the time now, whether it's anger or lust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Fire Is Out Of Our Control

Her breast burns for him, and her whole body clenches. She must know him better.

She would have married any man for her land; she's lost enough to war to know that a peace is necessary, no matter the price.

They were expecting King Mark himself, but Tristan made a pretty speech about his liege lord's unfortunate injury and absence and Mark was forgiven and they drank a toast to his health. The meal went quickly, and Tristan was charming, and not as hateful as he should have been, and the burning began.

She could have resisted if he had not come to her bedchamber. She is a princess, her role set out before her birth, she is a pawn, a prize, a gift, given when and where necessary. She is chaste and pure and keeps herself thusly for all in her kingdom.

But he came to her bedchamber.

She cannot find it in her heart to blame him, for if his desire is even but a tenth of her's, he could not have stopped himself. If she had been him, she would have come to; it is easier to evade guards than maids.

He comes to her and she is lost.

It's as though she is bewitched, but by what she does not know. She should hate him, and yet she takes him in.

He holds her to him afterwards, and she sees the mirror of her feelings in his face. He feels he should hate her for this, this sin they have committed, and yet he loves her and burns to know her.

They travel tomorrow to Cornwall, and they swear that this will not happen again. They will learn to bear the burning, their love set aside for other loves.

They know they make liars of themselves, for this cannot be withstood.

The enchantment is revealed after two summers in Cornwall.

She has been a good and dutiful wife. Mark is kind to her, treats her with respect. He is beloved of his people. Tristan is absent, something he has often been, even before. It raises no suspicions, he is errant and true. He stays but a dozen nights in the castle in those two years, and she breaks her marriage vows twelve times. She feels worse each time, and yet they cannot stop themselves.

Mark holds courts every quarter, for crimes too serious for anyone but a king to judge. She goes with him that day because she wishes to know more of the laws of Cornwall, she will live here till her dying day and she must learn.

The third case is of a peasant woman, accused of witchcraft. Her accusers state that she made a potion that made the local landowner love her. He is questioned, and his story is plain. He felt nothing for her and then everything and that, even if she is guilty, he begs the King forgive her. Isolde recognises the signs, sees herself and Tristan, and all falls into place.

What was done to her, probably by her maid or her father, was cheap peasant trickery to make her love Mark better, played too soon. Did they not believe her faithfulness to them? They have made her fall, believing her incapable of obedience and fidelity, she has become what they wished her not to be.

Tristan comes next on Mark's orders. There are enemies everywhere, and he must leave for a council. He trusts no-one, and fears that his castle will be attacked while he is gone. He asks Tristan to stay this time, stay and protect her. He can trust no other, he says, only his most loyal friend.

They are broken when Mark leaves, their recrimination kisses as they cleave to one another.

She tells Tristan as they lie entwined. Her suspicions, her hopes that this may wear away, like rocks in the tide. Their love for Mark will wash this from them.

They lie there.

It is peevishness or a devil that makes her ask. "Without the potion, would you have loved me?"

Tristan's silence is enough.

In another man, silence would mean that no, he could not have, and he does not wish to disappoint his woman. Tristan's silence is graver than that.

She has known men who fight for their land, fight for their kith or king, but Tristan kills for Mark. He loves him as no other, not even God.

She knows the meaning of his silence, knows it like she knows the beating of his heart and the warmth of his breath. His silence says I would have loved you, no matter what, and you are Mark's and I love you.

And she is lost.

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, some liberties have been taken with the legend in question.


End file.
